A Newfound Appreciation
by She's a Star
Summary: What do you get when you add Christmas morning, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and an argument between our beloved duo? Insane disaster with a dash of fluff, of course. :)


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A Newfound Appreciation

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by She's a Star

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR, who is a _genius_. 'I'll Be Home For Christmas' isn't mine either, in case you hadn't figured that out. ;)

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Author's Note: This was a spur-of-the-moment response to a fic challenge that my friends and I made up. :) The requirements were:

-A mention of Gilderoy Lockhart

-A new flavor of Every Flavor Beans

-Some sort of love-related song

-R/Hr

-A Snape kiss

And heeeere we go. :)

* * *

Hermione Granger was _not_ amused.

She could, she supposed, see how this could be considered a brilliant joke by others. Well, a _certain_ other who happened to go by the name of Ron Weasley, anyway. 

But _she_ did not appreciate the humor.

Not. At. All.

It was Christmas morning at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Hermione had awoken, as usual, to find a small pile of presents spread around her trunk at the foot of her bed. She'd opened them all very neatly, making sure not to tear the wrapping paper (tearing wrapping paper had always annoyed her to no end) that revealed a golden necklace from her parents, a boxed set of Jane Austen novels from her grandmother, a carefully knitted light pink sweater from Mrs. Weasley, a box of sugar quills in assorted flavors from Ginny, and a new set of chessmen from Harry. 

She'd stared, a bit wearily, at the remaining unopened present. Normally Ron's gifts weren't something to be frightened of - all he'd gotten her in the four years that they'd been friends were assorted boxes of candy. But this present wasn't shaped like any sort of candy box that she'd seen before.

_No_, she'd decided with a tentative rap on the present, _It definitely isn't candy. It feels almost like..._

A book.

But Ron would _never_ get her a book. For heaven's sake, he got annoyed when he caught her reading in the first place!

And so Hermione had been filled with a vague sense of dread as she slowly, slowly, _sssssllllloooowwwwwllllyyyyy_ peeled away the edges of the paper. As she did so, a very familiar face appeared before her on the cover.

A very familiar, very attractive, very roguishly winking face.

Wrinkling her nose, she studied the title in all its lilac-colored, swirly-lettered splendor.

_'Picking Up The Pieces: The Gilderoy Lockhart Story.'_

Under this, a subtitle proclaimed **'The moving and inspirational story of a struggling Five-Time-Witch-Weekly's-Most-Charming-Smile-Award Winner's attempt to rebuild his life after destroyed by scandal'**.

"Oh...my..." Hermione mumbled, staring at the book in shock. She flipped it open to find Ron's familiar scrawl filling the top of the inside cover.

_'Hermione,_

Charming git, wasn't he? Mr. Magical Me's made his return, apparently - thought you'd like to know. Don't thank me all at once. I know you're probably in awe and all. 

Check out page 189.

Happy holidays,

Ron'

Hermione rolled her eyes and obediently flipped to page one hundred and eighty-nine. A particular passage was circled in black ink.

Very tentatively, she read aloud to herself, "'Yet another thing that truly inspired me not to give into the trauma I was surrounded by was a certain girl by the name of Hermione Granger. During my ill-fated year teaching at Hogwarts, the girl never failed to shower me with blatant love and adoration. Hermione, this is...for you??'"

She studied the book, agonized, before stomping out of the dormitory in a huff. Ron already sat in the common room with Fred, George, and Ginny, chuckling about one thing or another. Hermione noticed that he was popping the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans that she'd gotten him into his mouth.

"I can't believe you actually _gave_ her that book, Ron!" Ginny was scolding lightly. "I mean, she'll be completely embarrassed!"

"You know, mate," George said, punching Ron's shoulder lightly, "I don't know if that's quite the way to go about winning dear old Herm-o-ninny's affections, showing her pictures of gorgeous blokes like Lockhart. Sorry, but he _is_ a bit more well off than you are in the looks department, Ronniekins."

"Sod off," Ron grumbled irritably. "Why don't you ever leave me a-bloody-lone about Hermione?"

"Because our ickle Ronniekins is in love!" Fred said with a sickly sweet smile. "And we can't just do _nothing_ about it!"

"I'm not in love," Ron argued. 

Hermione noticed that the tips of his ears were flushing. Her own cheeks were growing quite warm. 

She brushed it off and cleared her throat, marching over to where the Weasleys sat. They all looked up at her in unison. Ron looked terrified, Ginny rolled her eyes and gave Hermione a knowing smile, and the twins wore identical mischievous grins.

"Why, hello there, Herm-o-ninny," Fred greeted her brightly.

"Ronniekins was just talking about you!" continued George.

Hermione ignored them and instead fixed her gaze on Ron. Holding up the book she asked, quite loftily, "And _what_ is this?"

A rather devious smile crept upon Ron's face. "You mean you don't remember dear ol' Gildykins?"

"Gildykins?" Hermione repeated, fighting to keep a straight face.

"Sure," Ron said with an easy shrug. "I knew you'd love it." Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Ron cut her off, holding up his box of Every Flavor Beans. "Want one?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but his grin only widened. Giving up on the idea of punishment, she reached into the box and pulled out a fuchsia bean. This flavor was quite unfamiliar, and she tentatively nibbled off the corner.

An incredibly strange sensation filled her mouth - it tasted almost like...plastic.

"What on earth is this?" she asked, swallowing it quickly and not finishing the rest.

Ron snatched the bean from her fingers. "We'll know soon enough."

Hermione studied him skeptically. "What makes you so sure that _you'll_ know what it is?"

"Believe me, Hermione," George said. "Our little Ronniekins here is an _expert_."

"He was born with it," Fred added.

Hermione studied Ginny quizzically.

"It's true," the youngest Weasley informed her. "It's a gift. He can identify any flavor."

"Fine," Hermione said, a bit puzzled as she handed the bean to Ron. He popped it into his mouth, chewed a bit, made a few faces, and then announced, quite promptly:

"Hairbrush."

"_What?!_" everyone exploded in unison.

Ron repeated his proclamation. "Hairbrush."

"Ron, that's insane!" Hermione cried at once. "It can't be..._hairbrush_!"

"Well, too bad," he replied, looking very satisfied with himself, "Because it is."

"It is _not_!" Hermione argued. True, she'd never actually tasted a hairbrush before, but that was _certainly_ not hairbrush.

"Is too," Ron shot back, pulling a face at her.

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not.

"Is too."

"Is no-"

"Am I the only one who feels like they're trapped with a bunch of toddlers?" Ginny inquired.

"No, definitely not," replied Fred.

"I meant you," Ginny informed him.

Fred shrugged. "Well, then..."

"We may as well stop arguing," Hermione proclaimed, "Because it's _not_ hairbrush, and that's that."

"Excuse me, I think I heard you wrong," Ron said. "Because that was definitely hairbrush."

"How do you _know_ what a hairbrush tastes like?!" Hermione demanded, throwing her arms in the air in exasperation.

Ron smirked at her. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"You're insufferable," Hermione informed him, annoyed.

"You're just saying that because I'm right," Ron said with a broad grin.

"You are _not_ right!" Hermione protested defensively. "You're _never_ right!"

"A bit conceited there," Ron remarked. His ears were beginning to go red again, but she was pretty sure that it wasn't due to embarrassment. "You and Lockhart are really well suited, aren't you?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him dangerously. In a deadly hiss, she ordered, "Take that back, Ron Arthur Weasley."

"Never, Hermione Orphelia Granger," Ron said, quite devilishly.

"You are the most _annoying_, _unbearable,_ _uncouth_-"

"You two, you two," Ginny said at once, a bit alarmed. Most who were around Ron and Hermione for a considerable amount of time quickly learned how to predict one of their blazing rows. "This is a stupid thing to fight about. If you _really_ want to know the answer, then you'll just have to go to an expert."

"Hey!" Ron cried indignantly. "I _am_ an expert."

Ginny nodded. "But there's only one expert more wise in the world of candy than Ron."

"Who is...?"

"Dumbledore," Ginny said promptly.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance before Hermione proclaimed at once, "I'm _not_ going to Dumbledore over something as trivial as this!" while Ron said, at the same time, "Sure, let's go!"

The two turned to one another at once and simultaneously proclaimed, "_No!_"

"Come on, go," George urged. "Dumbledore loves stuff like this. It'll make his Christmas."

"Fine," Ron said, very quickly, and grabbed Hermione's hand firmly in his own. Before she had time to react, he had dragged her out of the common room, one hand holding Hermione's and the other the box of Every Flavor Beans.

As she stared desperately back through the slowly narrowing opening behind the portrait that revealed the common room, she saw Harry walk into the common room, rubbing his eyes, and ask, bewildered, "Where are they going?"

"Ron, this is _crazy_," Hermione proclaimed in desperate irritation as she attempted to free her hand from his own. No such luck.

Ah well. She didn't mind it _too_ much anyway.

He dragged her all the way down to the Great Hall, causing the portraits that lined the walls to point down at them and murmur in curiosity. 

Distinctly ruffled, Hermione followed him into the extravagantly decorated Great Hall. The teachers all sat at one table (minus the enigmatic - or rather, pathetically unsociable - Sybil Trelawney), and a few students had joined them as well. As the pair burst in, Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape, and Dumbledore all looked up at them simultaneously. Hermione noticed that Professor McGonagall was eyeing she and Ron's entwined fingers and smirking rather knowingly, and Hermione dropped Ron's hand at once.

"Good morning, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," said Professor Dumbledore, rather delightedly. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," Ron said.

"Merry Christmas, Professor," Hermione added, a bit awkwardly.

"And what brings you down here at the crack of dawn?" Dumbledore asked with a bright smile. His pale blue eyes twinkled merrily. "Most students would be perfectly content to sleep the entire day through."

"Well, you see Professor," Ron said, "Hermione and I had a little dilemma, and we'd like your opinion on something."

All the teachers looked vaguely amused; the headmaster appeared to be quite delighted. Ron dug for a moment through the box of Every Flavor Beans before producing, quite triumphantly, a frighteningly pink bean identical to the one that had sprouted their argument.

"Here sir," Ron said, a little awkwardly, as he stepped forward and handed Professor Dumbledore the bean. "What flavor would you say this was?"

Dumbledore popped the bean into his mouth and chewed, looking very pensive, as though this was a matter that demanded the utmost concentration. He made a few faces similar to those Ron had donned earlier before declaring, quite seriously:

"I would have to say..."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a quick look, and Ron mouthed the words 'I'm right!' before giving her a cheeky wink.

A great pause filled the hall before Dumbledore announced, "Hairbrush."

"Yes!" Ron cried out, then looked a bit sheepish as everyone studied him in amusement. "Er...I won," he added in explanation.

"I'm happy to have been of service, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, smiling, before raising his wand and asking, "I'd like a bit of music this morning. Do you mind?"

No one objected, and with a swish of his wand, the opening chords of 'I'll Be Home For Christmas' filled the Great Hall. Dumbledore sighed, quite contented, and began to hum under his breath as he went about his eating his breakfast.

"Let's go," Hermione muttered, grabbing Ron's arm. 

"I won," Ron replied with an unbearably smug grin.

"A rare occurrence," Hermione mumbled under her breath.

Ron froze. "What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing, nothing," she said quickly. 

He eyed her suspiciously, but didn't press the subject. Instead, he began to sing along with the music that filled the hall.

"I'll be home for Christmas!" he sang out in a foolishly deep baritone. Hermione couldn't help but giggle. 

"You can count on me," she sang back in between laughs.

He gave her a lopsided smile as they continued to walk toward the doors. "Please have snow and mistletoe, and presents under the tree."

"Christmas Eve will find me," Hermione sang, more softly now. She suddenly felt very aware of his arm brushing against hers. 

"Where the love light gleams," Ron continued. He actually had a very nice singing voice, when he wasn't being horribly dramatic. It was slightly obnoxious, but still had a trace of sweetness, and...it was just so utterly _Ron_.  
"I'll be home for Christmas," Hermione proclaimed, stopping for a moment where they stood in the doorway.

"If only..." Ron sang, very softly, "In my dreams..."

Hermione looked up, as though instinctively, and Ron's gaze followed her own. Hanging quite innocently from the Great Hall door frame was a mistletoe twig. Hermione couldn't recall its ever being part of the Christmas decorations in her previous years.

If she hadn't been staring quite fixedly at Ron, there was a chance she would have noticed the rather mysterious smile on Dumbledore's face.

And Ron leaned down, very slowly, and pressed his lips to hers. Immediately, a strange sort of hazy feeling seemed to take over her, and the only logical thought that could be processed in her mind was that it was very nice kissing Ron...yes, very nice indeed...

Until-

"Granger! Weasley!"

Hermione and Ron pulled apart at once to see Professor Snape storming toward them in usual overgrown-and-irritable-bat fashion, looking rather livid.

"_What_ do you think you are doing?!" he demanded. "That's completely inappropriate conduct! Twenty points from Gryffindor, and be glad it isn't more-"

"Severus!" Dumbledore cut in, a bit sharply. Snape fell silent at once.

"They cannot be _blamed_ for their actions," Dumbledore said. Even from across the room, Hermione could see his eyes sparkling. "There was, after all, mistletoe there. It _is_ a tradition."

"But-"

"No 'but's, Severus."

"Yes, Headmaster," Snape said, rather irritably. Still, he remained in the doorway, glaring, until Ron and Hermione made their way out of the hall. They had turned, ready to run for it, when Hermione found herself slamming into someone. She backed away to see Professor Trelawney glaring at her from behind her enormous spectacles. 

Obviously she still hadn't forgiven Hermione for her...dislike of Divination in third year.

Shame.

Trelawney, however, swept past them and into the Great Hall doorway, proclaiming, "Dear coworkers, my Inner Eye informed me..."

Her voice trailed off, however, when she looked up, found the mistletoe, and then turned to her right to see just who was standing under it with her. A sort of a nervous smile fluttered across her face for a moment, and Hermione was forced to shove her fist against her mouth to stifle her giggles.

"It's tradition," Dumbledore's voice sang out, crystal-clear, from the Great Hall.

Trelawney looked as though she were very weak in the knees, as she stumbled forward a bit and clutched against a certain potion master's robes to keep her from falling.

A purple vein throbbed violently in Severus Snape's forehead as he wrinkled his nose in absolute disgust and leaned forward, _very_ stiffly, to peck Professor Trelawney on the lips. Trelawney, however, seemed to want to take advantage of the opportunity, and she yanked Snape toward her and planted a big ol' romance-novel-worthy smooch on him.

Ron grabbed Hermione by the hand and dragged her down the hall at a frightening speed. About halfway down, he collapsed to the floor.

"Ron!" Hermione yelped, before noticing that he was trembling in mirth.

His face had gone completely red as he rolled back and forth on the corridor floor, choking on his laughter. 

"That..." he proclaimed in between laughs, attempting to sit up, "Was so. . . bloody. . .brilliant! Snape. . . snogging. . . Trelawney. . . Even. . . better. . . than. . . ferret. . . Malfoy. . .!"

And with that, he lost complete composure and collapsed onto the floor once more, gasping for air in between rabid fits of laughter.

Watching him, Hermione couldn't help but join in.

And as their laughter echoed through the corridors, she couldn't help but feel a newfound appreciation for hairbrush flavored candies.

Finito. :)


End file.
